Chapter Text
Bull awoke to Dorian sprawled across his chest, lazily stroking his cock.
‘Morning, amatus,’ Dorian purred. Bull could feel his mischievous smile against his skin.
‘Hey,’ Bull croaked.
Dorian tightened his grip.
‘Nu-uh,’ Bull protested, reaching to drag the mage up until they were face to face. ‘We said we’d get up early today and do your weapons training.’
Dorian frowned. ‘But, we’ve got all morning.’
‘No, kadan, you’ve got a full schedule and I’m running training exercises with Cullen and the new recruits.’
The ‘vint pouted, his hair was dishevelled and he had that just-woken innocence. Vashedan.
Dorian sighed and rubbed his thigh against Bull's length. Bull growled and reached down, intending to shift the mage away, but instead, his hands found those smooth buttocks… and squeezed.
‘Alright… if we’re quick,’ he breathed.
Of course, they were never quick. Bull loved feeling every inch of Dorian’s skin, preparing him until he was begging for it, pushing into his willing flesh until he cried Bull's name… Then sweet bliss holding him after, sweaty and breathless, stroking his hair back from his forehead until his heart-rate slowed.
So they missed their training.
‘Tomorrow, Dorian,’ Bull growled. ‘First thing.’
‘Of course, amatus,’ Dorian called back over his shoulder as he left. ‘I can’t wait for you to help me play with my staff.’
The double-entendre was terrible. Bull's influence, Dorian thought, smirking to himself as he walked the ramparts. The truth was he didn’t see the point of it. He was an excellent mage and monitored his mana carefully. When it ran low, he drew back, casting what defensive spells he could until he was recharged. If retreating wasn’t an option he quaffed lyrium and blasted his nearest enemies. He might not be a warrior, but he could whack an ailing demon with his staff powerfully enough or give a sharp kick into a brute's groin. Yet Bull was insistent he learn more advanced techniques with and without his staff ‘just in case’. This was all because a Templar had nullified his magic once, leaving him to the mercy of a rogue who stabbed him in the back. Dorian argued that was unavoidable considering the rogue was invisible and behind him thus rendering any new fighting techniques useless… but Bull would brook no argument.
They’d only managed one session and Dorian had used it primarily to show his lover how he could defend himself perfectly well, thank you very much.
***
It was late when Dorian finished going over some Venatori reports with Leliana. Exiting the war room, he rubbed his temple wearily against the beginnings of a headache. One of Bull’s massages was required. The big lummox knew exactly where to press and rub to ease Dorian’s aches. Those huge hands were capable of so many things. Dorian stepped up the pace.
Until a recruit intercepted him on the steps.
‘Master Pavus?’
‘Yes.’
‘I have a message for you from The Iron Bull. He asks you to come down to the valley, to your meeting place, without delay.’
‘For what purpose?’ Dorian asked, amused.
‘I don’t know, ser,’ the recruit replied blankly. ‘The message is simply that you go there directly.’
‘Fine,’ Dorian said with a coy smile.
***
It was a cold night. Dorian pulled his coat close around him. He wanted to run but decorum demanded he walk briskly across the bridge. It was an unusual meeting place, one he and Bull didn’t tend to use now that everyone knew they were lovers, but perhaps Bull was feeling nostalgic.
Dorian trotted down a narrow path towards the sheltered alcove, remembering one of the first times he’d come here with the Bull. He’d warmed the rocks with a spell and the Qunari brought furs and brandy. It was all very romantic, in a terribly rustic way.
Dorian waltzed inside the cave-like space, excited to see what sight awaited him. Candles? A roast? Bull lying naked on bear fur again? A cold pressure enveloped him. He knew this only too well - his magic was muted. Was this part of the game? No… He had a second to feel uneasy in the unnatural darkness before thin strong hands grabbed him from behind. Dorian had at least learned something from the previous rogue attack and violently twisted from the grasp before it had time to take hold, spinning to face his opponent, fists raised.
‘Gatt!’ he gasped taking in the elf’s steely countenance. ‘What are you-' he began. Then everything went black.
***